


building castles in the air (when will they fall)

by AxZi



Category: Heart no Kuni no Alice | Alice in the Country of Hearts
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Escape Artist Protagonist, F/M, Friendship, Maybe - Freeform, POV First Person, Romance, Yandere
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-10
Updated: 2018-01-12
Packaged: 2019-01-31 14:19:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 22,716
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12683619
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AxZi/pseuds/AxZi
Summary: So this guy picked me up and jumped into a hole, so what? I could still look to the bright side, see how positively this world compared to the drudgery of mine own. But even as I grew to like this new world around me, as I found out the more I explored, that was just because I didn't know what the stakes were yet. And now that I do know, Wonderland has suddenly become way too real.





	1. And so it begins

Characters showing up in this chapter: Peter White, Ace, Vivaldi.

* * *

 

Prologue.

My life was boring. Colourless. A stage with the curtains pulled back. A dollhouse with the dolls all put on their shelves. I always felt that my life was taking place in delayed animation. Everything that had any importance was still supposed to happen- but wasn’t.

Then it happened.

 _It_ was one of the scariest experiences for me. _It_ was being kidnapped by a strange man with bunny ears proclaiming his love for me. _It_ was being gathered up in the man’s lean arms as we both fell into a hole with no stopping point.

Until there suddenly was.

 _It_ shouldn’t have brought me so much excitement. I heard the blood rush through my ears, the beating of my heart and I was still shaking away with the aftershock of the fall. The possibility that when we finally met the ground, it’d be with a big splat.

There hadn’t been.

And _it_ shouldn’t be making my face go wobbly as I suppressed the urge to smile, and then grin, and then laugh out loud. The exultation I hadn’t died was proper and good, but the want to do it again, with the exact same parameters of not knowing whether I’d fall was decidedly _unwelcome._ But what could I do against my own feelings? I’d feel them even if I tried to hold them back.

“Hey, are you alright?” the man who’d kidnapped me asked, his voice clear and high, every syllable properly pronounced. Snapping out of my introspection, I turned my attention on him. Fully, this time.

Silver hair with long straight bangs that framed his face from both sides and fell to his chin. Intelligent grey eyes peering out from behind black spectacles and aimed at me. A patient, considering look which suited his soft features, also aimed at me.

These were my first impressions.

I didn’t move for a minute, uncertain what to ask or what to do. He was showing concern, but he was my kidnapper. Even trusting his countenance, I couldn’t be sure he wasn’t the unstable type stalker that could change faces in the flip of a coin.

The man reached out his hand and then I made the decision to react.

“Don’t touch me.” Slapping his hand away, I slid my legs together and pushed myself upwards, before managing to get on my feet.

“Thank goodness, so you’re okay,” the man spoke once I was done, the corners of his eyes softening with a hopeless smile.

“Whether I am healthy or not is no concern of yours,” I said, not trusting anything of what he was showing. I tucked my still trembling hands behind my back and asked the million-dollar question- “Who _are_ you, anyway?”

The man clasped his hands crisply in front of him, the posture of someone at parade rest. “My name is Peter White, lovely.”

_Grimace. Pet names, really?_

Feeling a bit awkward with his craziness, I proceeded to introduce myself. “Oookay. I’m-“

“-Mila!”

-only to be interrupted by my kidnapper. Him knowing my name did not make me feel any more comfortable with this situation.

_For sure._

Out of lack of anything better to do, I tucked a strand of my glossy black hair behind my ear. “And... why am I here?”

“Because, my love, I wanted you here!” he said, excited so much that he’d succeeded with his plan he was bouncing on the back of his heels.

It did not make me feel any safer. Licking my lips, I looked over his head at the woods which surrounded us for what I was sure was quite a bit.

_Wait- woods-?_

-and derailed what I’d just been doing.

My kidnapper noticed and turning his head so I had a glimpse full of his cheekbones, he commented, “We’re a bit farther away than I wanted us to be. I must have underestimated my landing.” It was more of a muttering, the judgment reserved only for himself, but I heard it anyway.

 _That wasn’t what I was asking!_ I argued in my head.

I said, “We just fell out of a hole.”

The other nodded at my words, his face swivelling back so his eyes were full of my face again. _Shiver._

“Then,” I finished, my voice taking on the rhythm of a kindergarten teacher, “Shouldn’t there be an exit hole _above us_ where we just came from?”

It was common sense. 2 + 2 makes 4, if you fall through a hole the hole should still be there. Not- not just lose existence entirely for it’s place to be taken by a clear blue sky. I craned my neck as I scanned the air. I reiterative, that shouldn’t be possible!

“Do you have to question everything?” the silver-haired kidnapper countered. He waved at the space next to him- “Do you think it’s possible for there to be a forest underneath the earth we fell from either? And, do you think we could have fallen so endlessly and then landed so softly if the rules of common sense amounted anything?” Smiling, the man then pointed at his face- or more specifically, the appendages on top of his head- “Or that I could turn into a rabbit, if we were still in your world?”

It was the last bit of what he said I zeroed in on. “My own world,” I repeated.

A flash of a smirk crossed my kidnapper’s face and he clapped once in his hands. “Well done Mila. That’s it exactly. Your world is now gone- you’ll never get it back- so now exists only Wonderland. My world.” He spread his arms to encompass the area.

I looked to the left, at the forest glade filled with trees, and to my right, at the clearing where a small moving stream snaked through the ground. Slowly, my heart beating like a drum (excitement? No!) I returned my gaze on him. Rabbit ears which twitched and felt warm- I remembered my arm brushing against it when he lifted me from my feet.

And all of that... symptoms of a greater whole. Of a different world. Of Wonderland.

I brought my hands up to my head, smoothed my hairs backwards as I worried. “What do I do now then?” I voiced, wanted to know. All my plans for the future lay shattered at my feet with the realization that they all depended on the world I’d already been living. A world I no longer lived in.

I trusted without a doubt his words that this wasn’t my world. There had been too much evidence for me to think otherwise. And whether he was speaking the truth about my never going back again? I trusted that, too. Because he’d brought me here for the purposes of keeping me here, and to that I was powerless.

A tense set I hadn’t noticed before to my kidnapper’s shoulders relaxed underneath the silken material of his crisp red and black chequered suit. He clapped once in his hands again before extending out a hand, wordlessly gesturing for me to step up to him. “Come with me. I’ve got a place ready for you. I readied it for you before you even came here. A place for you to belong.”

My steps were noisy on the forest floor, pulverizing dead leaves and snapping old sticks beneath my shoes as I made my way to his side. I let him take my arm, his hand moving down until he found my hand and he strung our palms together.

The satin of his black glove felt soft against my skin, and since we weren’t actually touching each other, I let him do it without comment. Though my closeness with him was making my earlier fear flare up, and I had to fight to not recoil from his grip and his presence.

Smiling at his side to me, his eyes beaming sun rays behind his spectacles, I wondered whether he was aware of this. I was somehow sure he was, and was enjoying it. The fact that he was the one in control here, to boot.

Giving my hand a squeeze, he started forwards and I had to move my legs to keep up the pace. Soon, we were moving between the trees and through the thickets, and soon even more, we met the end of the forest.

Here started a brick road, which I judged had been well used through the wear. Someone had always tracked mud on it and I caught my kidnapper wrinkling his nose in a surprisingly snooty gesture at it from the corner of my eye.

Then I remembered ah, the silken gloves, the pressed suit, and maybe not so surprising. He seemed the type- though that type should not be the sort to kidnap a twenty-year-old, memorize her name, and then call her lovely. A bitter smile forced itself on my face as I thought of it. Only I would end up in such a situation. Of course. _Of course._

“-hey, are you sure you’re okay?”

I blinked, coming back to myself. I followed my kidnapper’s strappy boots up to his suit and then his arm, which was being pulled backwards by the grip I still had on it. It would seem that I had stopped walking at a certain point while he’d kept walking, so our arms were being stretched like chains in between us.

I lifted my free hand up to rub at my cheek and said, “Sorry.” Took two steps so I was besides him again and squeezed his hand to show we should be moving.

“Right but... I you need a moment, we can stop,” said my kidnapper. He was trying very hard to give me the impression I could act freely here and _wasn’t_ just a glorified prisoner. How cute. I almost wanted to give him a condescending pat on the head as reward for continuing this fiction, but of course I didn’t. I was very much aware of my position.

Instead, I continued walking. My shoes rasped against the brick tiles of the path as we paced across of it before, like a candle flicking out, the sky abruptly darkened.

I jumped, my heart in my throat at the suddenly all assailing dark in my vicinity. We weren’t very far away from each other, so I could still see my kidnapper (as well as feel him) and in the distance where we had been aiming at, a light enshrouded building peeking out gigantically from the skyline. But other from that, the fields at either side of me were dark. I was sure that if looked behind me, where we just came from would also be dark.

“That’s right, I still haven’t explained this to you,” began my kidnapper conversationally. He was still walking calmly. I looked numbly down to see I was still walking too. My kidnapper brought his free hand up to wave it at the space around him. “Wonderland doesn’t have your world’s hour cycles to judge the time on. Instead we have something pretty interesting instead. You see, we have _time changes._ These change between afternoon, dinner time and night time and they happen asymmetrically after each other. So sometimes the time changes after a short period of times and sometimes it feels like an entire day has passed since the time changes- and it can be night time and the change to afternoon and then dinner time or any other time in between.”

I was open mouthed listening to him, and once there was a pause, said, “That looks like a really difficult system, though! How can anyone tell the time like this, or even get anywhere like this? It’s completely impossible.”

“Oh, everyone has their ways, lovely. I myself have decided that what time change it is itself is what’s important.” He explained why, “So if the queen wants me to show up at an appointment at night time, I’ll show up at night time- though not necessarily the next night time. It’s still night time, right?”

He laughed cheerfully to himself but I just had to pity the people he kept waiting like this. That poor queen...queen... _queen_ -?

“Wait wait wait-“ I held up my free hand for a break, and he complied, blinking placidly at me from the side. “Hold on. Did you say “queen?””

My kidnapper’s soft features broke out into a smile. “You noticed! I knew you would- you’re so smart- but I love it that you pay so close attention to what I say, my love.”

I wanted to reply back that only meant I was in a state of hyper awareness brought on by fear of my life. But I wasn’t chummy with my kidnapper, so I didn’t. I listened instead as he began explaining.

My kidnapper broke the contact between us, withdrawing his hand so he could press it and his free hand against his chest and say, “I’m the Castle of Heart territory’s Prime Minister. I work directly underneath the Queen. She’s my direct supervisor.” He smiled sweetly as he went on, “But if you’d rather become queen instead- I’ve heard that’s a common childhood dream- I’d gladly plot out her assassination.”

For the third time that night, I could only listen to him with open mouthed horror. He worked for the queen?! He was this world’s Prime Minister, of all people?! He’d assassinate the queen if that was something I wanted?!

The latter was most shocking to me, simply because I’d been under the contention that Peter White wanted me as a pet of some sorts. The way he’d given no choice as he kidnapped me to his world, and slammed close the exits so I’d never be able to go home, told me enough of what he thought about getting my permission.

I had to speak- “Why would you assassinate th, the queen, of all people-“

But he interrupted me a second time, bringing his finger up to my face to hush me (which worked).

“You don’t know it right now... but my supervisor is as black hearted and brutish as they come.” He sniffed to himself, a gesture of judgement belonging more on the face of a woman with a tiff than a prime minister- “She beheads people left and right with her beloved scythe. Our castle has a depopulation problem because of her antics, but I can’t do anything other than obey her because I’m her underling.”

“That’s terrible,” I burst out, my eyes wide with the thought of depopulation. “How have people let her get away with this? Is there no king-“

My kidnapper tsked in derision, the sound at home on his tongue. “The king’s useless. He’s always let the queen get her way, always lets himself be pushed over and bullied into doing other people’s work.”

I had a suspicion, and looked at my kidnapper’s bored face from the side. “-Those people bullying him wouldn’t include you, would it?”

My kidnapper shrugged underneath his well tailored suit, and that told me all I needed to know.

But then again, I’d never thought of him as a reputable man, so that only led me to renew my belief in Peter White’s villainous true nature.

“And here we are,” he said, and I stopped to look in front of me at the castle stretching far off in the distance still, on top of a mountain with a squiggly path that began from the ending of the labyrinth of rose bushes in front of us.

So the statement “and here we are” wasn’t true after all, but maybe he meant the castle grounds, rather than the castle itself. In which case, he was right.

Strange uniformed people populated the labyrinth in front of us, two even standing at the entrance. They bowed their heads to Peter White as he went through it and only offered me a cursory glance. The uniform they wore was brimming with red. Peter White’s clothes were red too, so maybe there was a link somewhere?

My thoughts continued spinning behind my eyes as I followed my kidnapper’s confident strides further into the maze, until there was a rustle from a bush from the corners of my eyes that I paid only minute attention to-

Pivoting around on one leg and shoving his other in front of me, Peter suddenly held onto a gun- and not a second sooner, the metallic flash coming from the direction of the rustle transforming into a passionately red bedecked man holding a sword against the cylinder of my kidnapper’s weapon.

This all happened before I could blink, but I had enough in me to understand that if Peter hadn’t just protected me with the side of his gun, and by stepping in front of me, the edge of that sword would have cleaved straight through me and come out the other side covered in viscera.

Trembling hands came up to hug myself and I panted, recognizing that.

Peter’s voice was a growl while he said, “Ace. What did you just try and do.”

I could see the muscles in his legs quiver beneath the silken material of his pants. The red bedecked stranger was still exerting pressure on his sword, and it was taking Peter all he had to keep standing in place.

The stranger laughed, “A ha ha ha. It’s Peter! I haven’t seen you in so long!”

“And?” The monotone which came out of Peter’s throat was unrecognisable to me, but it was frightening. I could just sense the lack of care he had in the thought of this person’s life or death.

“I hadn’t seen you in so long, you see... that when I saw you, I just... slipped!” The man’s face wore a flush, like he was embarrassed at his own rambunctious actions. _Rambunctious, ha!_ If that was what they called trying to kill people you didn’t even know, today.

Peter wasn’t having it. “You were aiming for Mila,” he forced out, each word that awful monotone.

The red bedecked stranger puffed out his cheeks and tilted his head to the side. “That your lover’s name?”

“L- _lovers?”_ I knew it was a bad idea to draw attention to myself while what was most definitely an assassination attempt was being carried out in front of my eyes, but the moniker he put us down as was going too far for me to _not stop_ myself. Two gazes slotted onto me while I flailed wildly at the air around myself. “Me and the prime minister are not lovers! He’s my kidnapper! We’ve only met today!”

My flailing picked up on speed as I tried to throw more evidence at the fact that such an idea was ridiculous, ridiculous! It was ludicrous! Impossible! _Absurd!_

I also noticed the fact that my words seemed to have deflated the tension in the area, if the red bedecked stranger’s lowered arms and Peter’s deferred focus told me anything. I hadn’t been trying for that, but it was a relief, and I let my shoulders unhook from their previous spiky state as I sighed.

Finally, the stranger removed the cold steel entirely from Peter and hung his scarlet dyed sword onto his belt, and with a grumble, Peter took his gun away from the man. It turned back into a clock with a flash of spooled light, which he let hang from the pocket of his trousers.

 “Mila!” My kidnapper exclaimed, and before I could even protest I was holding onto two tons of prime minister. “Oh Mila!” He sighed, rubbing his cheek against my collarbone from where he’d tucked himself underneath my chin. He was practically hanging from me, his legs dragging against the ground. “Mila, I’m so happy you’re okay! I’m so happy that brute didn’t do any damage to you!”

I gave the pathetic man underneath my chin an inspecting look and finally, sighed. He made an art form out of looking pitiful, so even I, ignoring my better sense, felt and then gave in into the urge to pat his head. Peter melted. “Oh, Mila!”

I heard the stranger’s footsteps approach before he spoke, “Not lovers, huh?”

I swatted at him without looking away, “Oh shut up.” Freezing a moment later when I realized I’d just swatted _the person who’d almost killed me._

The person laughed the same disconnected laughter as when he and Peter had been going at it. “Aha ah ha ha ha. You’re a courageous one, aren’t you?”

 _Not me._ I prayed that the ground would come up to swallow me. It did not.

The man sauntered in front of me, to the back of Peter, so I had to meet his gaze. His eyes were almost like Peter’s, but while Peter’s were the red of an albino’s rabbit, his were a shade of red that was naturally occurring even in my world. A shade of chestnut brown, which were creased warmly at the minute to go with his wide smile.

“Don’t annoy my Mila,” Peter demanded from where he was still clinging to me.

“Of course not,” the stranger with the chiselled jawline assured. I almost wanted to poke Peter to get him going. It was supremely... awkward, it was awkward, having a conversation with someone while I still had him using me as a teddy bear.

But Peter might see me trying to avoid this person as encouragement to continue his unwanted advanced, and I wanted nothing more to not do that. So despite the awkwardness, I kept this conversation alive. “My name is Carmine.”

“Ace,” the other said, leaning his back against one of the rose bushes. “This country’s knight of hearts.”

 _Was that a euphemism, or... ah._ It struck me that the “of hearts” part was part of the castle’s title. So probably that meant he was a knight of this castle. “Like Peter’s the prime minister of hearts,” I surmised.

“Oh Mila, you remembered-“ Peter tried to go on his spiel. At the same time Ace said, “And your role is?”

Both of them stopped, but I thought it likely Peter only did because whatever Ace had said struck him.

I was proven right when he next said, “Mila doesn’t have a role. She’s a foreigner.”

For the first time, I was met with the sight of Ace unsettled, the man who’d flung a sword at me dropping his smile and stiffening up. “-foreigner.”

I aimed my words at the man wrapped around me. “Is that the name for people who came to this world through a different one?”

And he hummed, “That’s exactly right! That’s my lovely!”

I was starting to think he was intentionally acting condescending.

“She’s really a foreigner?” Ace asked, looking at us weirdly.

His repeated statement unlocked movement in the prime minister acting un-princely, and my prissy kidnapper detached himself from me, straightening himself once he was fully on his feet again. He turned around and let out an arrogant sounding scoff. “You can’t feel it? That my lovely is not a part of the cycle? Or are you too inept at the mental to do that?”

Ace gathered himself together enough to nod his head slowly, his words increasing in strength. “You-you’re right, that’s right I can sense it. Your Mila is a foreigner.” Slowly but surely, the smile returned to his face as well, slotting right in like it’d never left. “How interesting! A foreigner in Wonderland?”

“I already said that,” Peter replied snootily and impatiently. Turning his back on his co-worker, he turned an excited smile on me and clasped our hands together. “Come with me, Mila. I’ll show you were you’re going to be sleeping from now on, it’s nothing like you’re used to. It’s going to be great.”

He’d already deleted the other man out of his head, so much I was sure of. But I still looked at the man uncertainly. If he hadn’t just tried to disembowel or behead or whatever he tried to do to me with a sword, I might have tried to see whether I could ask him for help. Because surely not everyone from this country condoned kidnapping? But he’d just tried to kill me so for once, I actually felt _safer_ being with Peter than away.

On that note, I let Peter lead me farther through the maze and away from the knight, who was watching us go with a broad grin and a wave, with something akin to eagerness.

At what I estimate to be a half an hour later, we’d finally arrived inside the actual castle part of the castle. The castle looked amazing by the way. The front looking for all intents and purposes like a fortress except decorated with hearts and painted varying degrees of red and pink. The inside of the walls were also painted red, to match the exterior I’m sure, and was positively ginormous. But, wherever we walked, we could see servants tidying up the halls and corridors, so if I did ever get lost, at least help would be nearby.

(On a less positive note, if I ever try to escape, they’d _also_ be nearby)

Peter eventually led me to a room at what I’m told is close to the kitchens. He said, ominously, that his room was the one opposite me if I “ever needed help.” I didn’t have to guess—I _knew_ he’d done this specifically so that I’d have difficulties escaping him. The thought made me panic a little, breathing picking up, cold sweat starting to bead from my skin. It was sort of disgusting, so to calm down a little, I asked him whether I could take a shower before we’d continue the tour.

I was in the shower right now (my room had had one attached to it), letting the lukewarm water slide off of my shoulders and gather in the drainage pit in the centre of the warmed tiles of the stall. While I was in there, I finally took a moment of much needed retrospection.

Okay, so let’s put it all out there. I’d been kidnapped—right. My kidnapper was my stalker, who somehow knew things about me he must have watched me to know—okay. My kidnapper was in love with me if his pet names like lovely told me anything—okay. I had almost been killed not that long ago (AAAAAHHHHH). My kidnapper had protected me (AAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH). I couldn’t count on his protection or for him to be harmless forever (AAAAAHHHHHHH).

(It was good that the clattering water drowned out the screams).

 _Huff... puff..._ Sliding my hand against the stall’s wall, I slowly caught my breath and calmed down again. _Okay. Right._

So what was I to do now?

I was in the same state as earlier this day, when I’d first ended up in the forest. I’d let Peter take the lead because I’d had no clue what I could do. I still did not have a clue, so that was the same.

Presumably there were things to do here in this new world, though. If this world had queens and servants, they presumably had everything in between. _Maybe I can find a job?_

But even as the thought crossed my mind, I crossed it off my mental list. I was _awful_ at taking the pre-emptive. If nobody handed me a job, there was no way I’d be able to push myself into finding a job instead.

It wasn’t laziness (I work myself up over my inability to do things to the extent I’d undoubtfully have a better time actually doing them).

Neither was it that I lack smarts (I know how to get a job and how to do it, how to get an interview, how to everything required).

I _just **couldn’t.**_

I shook my head fervently, trying to shake of the bad thoughts. At least I didn’t have responsibilities here I could ruin with my usual antics, like with back home. Finishing up my shower, I patted myself clean with a big fluffy towel, dressed, and opened the door to my room where Peter was waiting,

I absorbed myself in small talk with him as we started walking down the corridor.  Eventually, he told me that before he could leave me to rest, I needed to meet with the queen of the castle, just so the woman knew I was there and what I looked like and wouldn’t try and behead me at first sight. _Shiver._

“That...that would be best,” I replied back, the goosebumps peaking out from my skin. My kidnapper rested his hand on my shoulder in silent solidarity, but that... did absolutely nothing at making me feel better.  

With dread, I dragged my feet down this corridor floor. At the end of the corridor, looming ominously, was the queen’s audience room. I was not looking forwards to having to rely on my kidnapper for the continued sanctity of my bodily health. But... I had no choice on the matter.

My heart once again in my throat, I stood in front of the audience door as the foot soldiers at either side of it pulled it open.

The audience chamber was the size of a football field. It spread out in front of me for a mile, ending in an elevated platform on which the thrones had been placed. A woman- who I presumed was her majesty herself- sat on the biggest throne in the middle of the platform, her legs spread as she sprawled lazily from the dark red cushion of her seat. Her outfit was absolutely spectacular, a red ballroom gown with the back of her collar pulled out to frame her head in a heart shape, and a lacy corset making the generous curves of her body stand out.

Looking at her like this was making me flush. I bat my eyes downwards.

His grip on my shoulder tightening, Peter pushed me further into the room and as my legs weren’t complying with me so well, I let him do it.

He said, “Your majesty.” And with one arm bent inwards to his chest, he folded into a courteous bow. I echoed him afterwards.

Her majesty smiled, lips painted a fire engine red twisting upwards in her amusement. “Peter White. And that, I presume, is our country’s first outsider?”

As if he’d been cued, Peter withdrew out of his bow and dragged me upwards as well. “Her name is Mila, your majesty.”

It was actually Carmine. Only friends could call me Mila.

Peeking an eye on the majesty’s lazy contentment, the air of a cat at play, I thought it better to keep this to myself however.

“Let me see you,” the queen said, gesturing with a downwards flap to usher me over. I looked over at Peter for instruction, and he nodded his head to me.

When I was in front of the elevated platform, the queen flapped her hand again and with a grimace twitching on my face, I took a step up the incline and waited.

I didn’t have to wait long.

Her majesty reached out and placed her hand on my shoulder, and her other to my cheek. Turning out to be as touchy feely as Peter himself, but unlike Peter, she didn’t wear gloves. I could feel her soft palm trace the curves my bone structure made in my face, testing me out as if I was a doll for her to toy with.

Finally, the queen leaned backwards again and dropped her hands from me, satisfied with her inspection. Her final verdict: “You’re adorable!”  

 _Why._ I was not adorable at all. People who were small and petite, whose clothes hung loose from their frame in a way that mimicked art, whose voices were as high and clear as a bird’s (and Peter, I mistakenly thought), those were the cute ones. If anything, I was pretty. Or average. Or just enough. Or- _You get the idea._

“Call me Vivaldi,” the queen demanded while I was busy zoning out. I snapped back to attention with a stuttering, “O, okay.”

“Aww, that’s so cute!” the queen exulted at my awkwardness. I just looked at her- before it struck me like lightning. Here was my chance!

“Your majesty-“

“Vi-val-di,” the queen purred.

“Vivaldi. Your majesty’s underling kidnapped me!” I pointed one shaking finger Peter’s way- oh my god, what if he was going to shoot her to get away with this? Oh my god, he spoke about assassinating her!

But I couldn’t do nothing! With jerky hand movements, I elaborated on how I’d come to get here. And Peter White’s terrible part in it!

(The thrill was almost as good as falling and not knowing when you were going to land).

Once I was done, I clasped my hands together and waited for a response.

 “Snrk.” Her majesty let a chuckle escape.

...I got one.

“What?” I asked politely.

“He he, ehehehe.”

The chuckling grew in size until eventually she was full bellied laughing.

I couldn’t believe this. I was nailed to the ground, completely motionless except the up and down of my abdomen as I breathed. In, out. “...Why are you laughing.” In, out. “This isn’t a joke.”

She was in on this too? That was ~~exciting~~ – _terrifying._ Yes. Terrifying.

“Oh, dear beloved outsider,” her majesty said, and now she was in on the pet names too. The woman leaned backwards in her throne, folding her arms together so she was imperiously looking down her nose at me. “You’re naive about your place here now, but soon enough, you’ll figure out that even while we didn’t help our prime minister bring you here, we certainly don’t want you gone.”

She then gestured lazily with her hand. “That is enough for now. Peter White, Mila...dismissed.”

I was still staring at her in shock as Peter dragged me from the audience room.

So _now_ what was I supposed to do? (I was finding that quickly becoming my catchphrase, these days).

End.


	2. The ojou comes in force

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Being an escape artist is thrilling! Peter White actually lets me go!? Meeting Julius.

Characters appearing in this update: Ace, Peter White, Julius, and a random faceless~

* * *

That night, I couldn't get an inch of rest. I flipped from the one side of the bed to the other, mumbling but what about my responsibilities back home? But what about all the tasks I had only halfway completed?

I was still awake when dawn broke, though only buried deeper in my covers, sweeping them over my head, since it felt like only a short period of time had passed. That was even with my restlessness. With a grimace, I realized I'd have to rely on my intuition from now on, since I'd never know whether it was day break because I’d slept through the night (or stayed awake in, as the case was) or simply because it was the next time change and not that much time had passed.

My mood darkening, this time I decided to stay lying in one position for the now day and hopefully fall asleep like this.

There was another time change (to dusk this time) before I gave it up for the bad job it was and threw the covers off, sweeping my legs over the side of the bed. I rubbed the sleep out of my eyes, the flesh underneath them surely gone grey with the lack of sleep.

I jerked my head to the left and then the right as I went hunting for a change of clothes. Letting my eyes rest eventually on the closet door opposite my bed, I figured that was where I’d be able to change clothes. My feet slipped soundlessly on the floor, no creaking floorboards for me, and I pattered over to that door, sliding it open in one arm movement.

When it opened, I stood motionless with slumping shoulders, gazing at the dearth of actual clothes revealed within. There was a clothesline and hangars to show I'd had the correct idea, though, but it looked like I just hadn't been assigned any.

"D'oh." I face palmed myself as it sank in that id been kidnapped. This wasn't some fancy field trip resort- I'd been kidnapped, taken away from my rightful place, leaving everything belonging to civilization behind. Including, it would seem, a change of clothes. "But-!" I whined soundlessly, only my thoughts shouting out at me, hadn't my kidnapper said he'd handled everything? Clothes should be under that everything!

I gave myself five more minutes to bitch and complain, before slapping my cheeks with my hands. "Alright, fine," I declared, confident as can be, "I'll go arrange for some clothes myself, then!"

My mind made up, I pivoted on my heel and faced the door before I began marching to it, swinging it open, and marching out of it. It occurred to me only while I stood in the hallway what luck it was that the door had been open as for all I knew it could have been locked. Then I sank back into depression as I realized at the same time that, with the servants milling around the hallways to act as watchers, they didn't need to lock me in.

Such was my misery that my kidnapper was a country's prime minister of all people. With the not so silent support in his kidnapping endeavour from the queen of all people! Oh woe was me.

But! I shook my head, shaking of the bad thoughts like how a wet dog shakes off water. I hiked up my sleeve as a reminder to myself to stay determined.

I couldn't let this get me down right now! It was easy imaging the worst possible situations, but it took real courage to acknowledge them but then move on anyway!

And so, I started my journey down the hallway corridor, my sleeves hiked up as I kept my head held high.

Tap tap tap tap.

The hallway was mouse quiet except for the sound I was making with my footsteps.

Tap tap tap tap.

Were where the servants I had been sure were patrolling the hallways right now? Had I just entered the twilight zone?

Taptaptap tap...pause..blink.

Finally, coming from further down the hallway and to the left, noise. Sharpening my hearing to be able to hear better, I crouched down behind one of the walls before the hallway curved around the corner. And I waited. And waited. And waited. And then I lost my patience and, pushing my head around the corner, I stared.

There, a couple of meters away from me, a pair of servant girls were humming and splashing the smooth stone floor with the water from their buckets.

At last! Obstacles! Wonder why there hadn't been any in the hallway attached to my room? But even as I thought that, it occurred to me that Peter White may have deliberately sent the serving staff away from that place, maybe so he'd only be the one with access to me _. Shudder_. Peter White was still a creep.

Excitement grew in my heart when I thought what that meant, though. What if I could escape from this place, using the empty hallway attached to my room as the starting point? It wouldn't work if the staff became aware of me from the start, but if I had a place I definitely was not seen, I could possibly sneak around from there like solid snake and make sure I wasn't seen!

A smile grew on my face at the thought, and I had to clasp my hands on my face to stop any ecstatic giggles from escaping. It wouldn't be good to give up the game now, would it? Not when it was only just starting!

(In the back of my mind, I wondered why the idea of a sneaking game like this made me feel enthusiastic, instead of concerned. But I ignored that same worry. It didn't matter.)

So now I had to deal with my first obstacle-serving girls mopping a spot I wanted to move past. Staying here to wait for them to finish of did not seem like a good idea. I had no clue whether others would be joining them mid way-and neither did I know when Peter White would be fetching me.

How else could I get them from that spot, though? I turned my head, trailing my eyes over the area to find something that might give me an idea. My eyes landed eventually on the thick curtains which at this moment were pulled wide open at the corners of the window panels. I followed the trail of the curtains upwards until I saw the support beams crisscrossing the width of the hallway area.

Of course! Mentally, I smacked my fist against the open palm of my right hand. To not be seem, but for the servants to still be able to continue their work...  Why wouldn't I try and move over them from above!?

I was smiling to myself like a fool, to the point were my cheeks were starting to hurt. I was clearly magnificent, coming up with such a smart idea at such short a time. Then I crawled backwards until I was fully out of the girls’ sight and pushed myself to my feet, unbending my knees. First of all- to climb up the curtains.

I put that plan into immediate action. Weighing down the part of the curtain which was dragging against the floor with my feet, I gently pulled on the curtains to test whether they would hold my entire weight. They held. Then, I put my feet onto the fence as I started winding the material of the curtain around my arms and then waist. Once that was done, I started on the part that'd take the most out of me--- the wall climbing. I took a step upwards, using the curtain I'd wound around my limbs to support me, basically hanging against it. I took another step on the white wall next to the curtains, and then another and then another, each time letting a degree of the material slip to allow me to move on. Once I was finally level with the support beams, I carefully stretched my leg over the beam until it was touching the skin underneath my knee, and did the same with my other leg. I let go of the curtain.

I'd done it! I had actually done it! Inwardly I was cheering and throwing confetti in the air, encouraged by invisible woman shaking pompoms. Outwardly I was biting my lip to stifle giggles at the absurdity of this all.

But first, I had to swing myself upright onto the beam, which I quickly did, shuffling so my but was more firmly on the wood.

Looking at the other beams I would have to climb over, my sigh closely resembled a kettle boiling over. But cheer up Mila, I told myself. After all, you're the one who decided to do this.

My mind firmed up again, I stretched out my hand to place on the support beam to my side to start climbing. It meant I had to stand up somehow- or in my case, crouch to keep a firm grip on the beam I was already on. Lifting a foot, I placed it on the two beams I was gripping and slowly moved it over the gap in between.

In increments, I leaned more of my weight to the other side, to my foot firmly planted on the beam. Once I was sitting more over the other beam than the first, I let go of the hand I had on it and retracted my other leg so it could join the rest of me.

I kept this going for a long time, quickly creeping over the maids mopping the hallway. I came across others as I was underway just below the ceiling as well. Waiting staff, looking harried as they carried trays with food in them to a destination unknown. Soldiers, patiently keeping guard over select rooms on the estate. More soldiers. More maids.

More than once I asked myself where were the other aristocrats? The ladies and gentlemen that surely had to exist- where had they gone? I pondered it while doing my ceiling creeping. I pondered it while hanging from the rafters for a break.

I pondered a lot; My stomach was growling, I was trying to distract it. I didn't give a shit about the nobility.

Growwwwwl.

My eye twitched.

GGRROOOOWLLL, it pressed, insistent. Do you have your own mind, stomach, I asked it, alarmed. Oh my god - what if the noises it was making would attract attention? _No no no no no!_

Flapping my hands to create an updraft to cool it down, I tried to see whether this would settle it. Otherwise I was in deep trouble.

It didn't listen. Truly, the stomach was a harsh mistress.

That was definitely a problem because how was I going to be able to move onwards now? When the risk of meeting someone in the hallway was so exponentially high, when they could look up at a strange sound and see me like that? I'd be defenseless! A sitting duck!

My teeth on edge, all I could do was weather the growling coming from my tyrannous stomach. Truly, the stomach was one harsh mistress. 

My muscles were trembling too from holding myself up all the time. _Aah, I’ve truly reached my limit._ Hiking my legs up from where they’d been hanging over the beam, I spread them over the other beams and leaned backwards. Closing my eyes, I gave into my exhaustion, and just let myself rest for a while.

Thankfully, the growls did eventually die down and there was silence in the hallway again. With the soft thud thud thudding of my heart the only sound, and with the warmth of the beam against my back, I could almost fall into slumber. I almost did which wasn’t surprising, as I’d had very little sleep at night.

But fifteen minutes passed, and with a groan, I pulled myself upright. I had to escape, and the quicker I could do that to prevent them from sounding the alarm and actually paying attention to their vicinity, the better.

On my hands and feet, I started my shuffle clamber over the beams again.

It was at that point that at the very end of the corridor I was in right now, that the red bedecked assassin knight came around the corner. I immediately stopped in my tracks, even holding my breath. Okay, so this was the most difficulty part-was I going to be able to fool someone who had been specifically trained (he was a knight, after all) to have situational awareness?

The knight came closer, quite firmly gazing out in front of him instead of to the rafters where I was, and I allowed myself a sliver of hope-

“Oh. It’s you! Hi there.”

-only to have it stab me in the back when the knight came to rest in a position just below me, shielding his eyes from the sun as he rotated his head to rest his gaze on me. He waved.

“Auugh.” Groaning, I let myself slump onto the beam in front of me, my forehead hitting the wood with a dull thump.

“Hahaha, so what are you doing up there then, Prime Minister’s lover?”

Also, to add salt to my wounds, he still insisted on calling me by that obviously wrong moniker. I was _not_ the prime minister’s beau. I was his unwanted kidnappee—didn’t he understand?

I stiffened up suddenly, wide eyes narrowing in on the broad grin of the one who’d tried skewering me not that long ago as it occurred—but what if he didn’t?

I tried to remember back, scraping the edges of my memories, for when I first met him. Had I spoken anything about being kidnapped? Had Peter White insinuated something like that?

If not, and he _was_ a knight (for all he’d tried skewering me. That needed repetition), maybe-

I looked at him, my heart beating like a drum in my chest.

-maybe he’d return me back home.

I quickly sat upright again and began my plea with a general summing up of my experience. “Sir knight-“

“Oh you can call me Ace, you know.”

“-I’m not here under my own devices. To be honest, I wouldn’t be here at all if it weren’t for Peter White’s actions in my own world. He kidnapped me, snatching me away from my own garden and into a hole, until we arrived here. I already asked the queen to help me but she instead seemed to actively encourage his behaviour. So now I’m in this bind. Please,” I added, “can you help me? Can you return me back to my own world?”

I ended my plea with a bow of my head and a blank facial expression. I would put on a sad expression to get sympathy, but I knew acting out an emotion I didn’t feel was impossible for me. This person would notice it, if he was really as impressive as his status as knight would tell.

The knight scratched the back of his head once I finished speaking, his smile swapping for a polite look of puzzlement. “So does that mean your stay here wasn’t approved by the Gatekeeper? That’s relatively odd. But, that does mean you should be able to leave.” He furrowed his eyebrows. “Whenever you want to, in fact. So why are you still here?”

I was struck numb at that question, my hands motionless on the beam. Whenever he wanted, he said. I could leave. I didn’t understand, stuttering out- “But if I’m kept here under watch, then-“

The knight shook his head and wagged his finger from side to side. “Traveling through the veil that separates this world and yours is not a matter of location. It’s a matter of mind set. If I wanted to right now, I could look at what was happening across the veil. Not that I want to, but I could if I wanted to. And since you _belong_ to that side, with just the wish, you should already be there.”

“I, I I I, I don’t understand-“ I stammered.

“I’m telling you to leave. Go. If you really want to leave. Why are you still here? Go on then. Shoo.”

I stared at him non-comprehendingly, even as he gestured with a cupped hand to shoo me away, his different ways of telling me to leave becoming ever blunter. Emotion had been wiped from his face, which on an ever-smiling visage, showed me he was really serious here. No jokes. No tricks. I could leave if I wanted.

_Why...why am I still here?_

My mind spun into confusing, statically, stark white turmoil.  

“Stop it.”

The word rebounded through the corridor, and with the clap of footsteps on the ground, Peter White announced his arrival.

“Ah-“

Turning my head, I was met with the sight of the man stomping down the corridor towards us, a look of murder on his face. I was only half-way comforted to see it was meant for Ace, not me.

“Don’t speak to her about this anymore, Ace.”

The man’s voice had lowered significantly since I’d heard him last, the timbre approaching a rumble. With a clack of his heels, he came to a stop just inches away from Ace, with enough space to move his arms if he wanted to. Tilting his chin, his eyes connecting with mine, he addressed me next- “Don’t worry my love. You can come down now-I’ll always be here to catch you when you fall.”

With the feeling of ice down my back, I couldn’t move a finger, let alone on his command. Besides, that meant I’d be close to him, my kidnapper, and Ace, my attempted murderer. _Excuse me if I think I’m safer up here._

“You talk about always, but feelings of love are like fire—easily ignited, but just as easily extinguished,” said Ace wisely, and side stepped the swat Peter White tried to pack him with.

He slouched. “Well, _I_ can see when I’m not welcome.” Tipped an imaginary hat. “Mila. Mr Peter.” And then, in a whirl of his long coat, he started up the hallway he’d just come from.

So now there was only me and Peter. I dug my fingers in the wood of the beam where I had them wrapped around it, a feeling of vertigo starting in the pit of my stomach.

He spoke first.

“Mila... You can leave if you want to. You don’t have to do this.” A rueful expression softened up the pretty features of his face. “Sneaking around like a fugitive... doing dangerous stunts to avoid detection. If you hate me so much, that’s fine. I already calculated that’d be the case.”

My voice broke as I spoke, “What am I supposed to do instead then?” Who’d take me in? Because clearly, it was like Ace said, and I wouldn’t be able to leave. Where was the excitement I was feeling earlier? Because now, I was only feeling dread.

Peter started pacing, his footsteps reverberating through the large space where they claimed contact with the stone floor. “There are other territories inside Wonderland. The roleholders, people like my co-workers and I, will be inclined to think well of you from the very start. Also, you’re a new thing, so they’ll be curious. I don’t doubt you’ll be able to find shelter with one of them.”

I let this sink in, also taking in the way Peter’s face twitched as he admitted this, his expression almost tortured. But I couldn’t forget he was a kidnapper. That he hadn’t asked for my permission before he’d completely upended my life.

“Okay okay. I’ll do that,” I came to the verdict. “I presume you’ll tell me more about the territories, and give me directions to where they are.”

Peter nodded his head, and I looked down at the ground.

“...First, I’ll have to get down again..” I mumbled to myself, my words not entirely meant for him. But he jerked his head up, his red eyes shining hopefully were they met with mine, and I recognised he wanted to catch me.

I looked at the curtains at the wall to the right of me and tried to guess whether I’d be able to get to the ground using the same methods I’d gotten up with, and ignored the almost invisible slump of Peter’s shoulders in my peripheral sight.

I _should_ be able to... This in mind, I started my shuffle dance closer to the wall, and pulled the curtain towards me.

And like that, I manged to get to the floor, and let the curtains fall back into their rightful places a moment later.

Now to deal with Peter. I flicked my gaze towards him, to see he had recovered from my snub and was smiling softly at me, something wistful in his gaze.

I walked up to him demandingly. “Tell me about the territories.”

Peter beamed, his eyes sparkling like fragile glass orbs. “It would be my pleasure!”

I found out from his explanation that Wonderland was made up of four territories. One was the queen’s, which was where we were right now. The territory of Hearts. There was also the Hatter’s mansion, which was a territory controlled by the aforementioned Hatter. I was told he was a mafia boss, so the territory was basically in the control of the underground. That was interesting enough. Then there was the amusement park, owned by a man called Mary Gowland. Peter said he was sensitive about his name, so he went predominately by Gowland. And lastly, there was the neutral territory the clocktower, which belonged to a man called Julius Monrey. The only territory not involved in the land war starring Wonderland.

“It sounds like I’ll be safer if I go to the clocktower?” I confirmed with Peter once he’d finished elaborating.

A muscle jumped in his jaw, his expression telling me I was wrong. He said further on the matter, “The clockmaker is the roleholder with the most enemies out of us. Of course, he’s safe from the territory war, and so from being targeted by us other roleholders for it, but his job is reviled almost universally. So you might end up involved in a skirmish if you’re with him.”

Privately I thought that was still a possibility if I was around other roleholders, if my experience with Ace told me about anything. But I didn’t say this to him, just gave out a hum of acknowledgement for his caution.

 “And, directions?” I asked next.

“You walk the road from the maze below the castle, and get to the clocktower. From there, you turn right and that brings you to the mansion. You can get to the amusement park taking the road which goes away from the mansion,” said Peter.

Okay. So now I knew how to get there, and where I should get first, I felt much more at ease. Not having to stay here where, in the last day, I had A) been kidnapped to, B) almost been skewered in and C) couldn’t be sure I wouldn’t be beheaded in if I didn’t do what the queen wanted... _Yeah. Should definitely get out here._

I knocked my shoulders back in determination and said, “Okay then, I’m taking my leave.”

Looking suddenly fragile, all paper white skin and small bones, Peter said, “Have a good trip.”

And with that I made my leave.

Eventually I found myself at the feet of the maze, my arms folded behind the back of my head. I walked for a while, keeping to the path like Peter had advised me to do. Houses passed me by, showing that the area was inhabited by people other than from the castle. I tilted my chin, eyes on the sky as I frowned. Or maybe these were the houses belonging to the maids, that was also possible.

I continued my walk at a comfortable pace, feet treading the worn-down bricks of the path. It was only after one time period had passed (the sky opening up into an unclouded blue) that my feet started to drag. My pace slowed down, becoming a snail’s crawl. In fact, at a certain point I stopped entirety. It was also at this point that I could see a conglomeration of closely built buildings in the distance, but it was the clock tower, peeking from above them, that drew my eye.

“Come on feet. You can do it, right?” I tried to coax myself, but my feet were really hurting. Maybe just one break... Looking over to the appealing softness of the grass to the side of the road, I felt my spirit weakening even more. I sighed.

“Okay fine.”

In the next, I was laying on my back against the grass, lazily watching the sky above my head. A yawn broke out before I could stop it—but why do that? Nobody nearby I had to watch my manners around...just me.

I blinked a couple of time, the sight of the blue sky fogging up. Or not...it was my mind fogging up. I let out another jaw cracking yawn, and curled onto my side, my hands clasped beneath my chest.

_Just... five more minutes...._

Another blink, and... I was dead to the world.

* * *

 

“....”

For a moment, all was quiet.

“....”

No birds sang. No plant life rustled from the slight breeze, displacing a lock of glossy black hair from the girl’s head. It was like the earth itself was holding it’s breathe, and then-

“Oh, what are you doing here?”

Ace smiled indulgently to himself as he stepped nearer to the girl from off road. He sank down to his hips once he was close to her, towering over her. He brushed the displaced strand out of her face, the sides of his fingers just brushing against her cheek.

“Miss outsider.”

Ace smiled contemplatively to himself and thought what it would like to kill her. His fingers twitched as he imagined gripping her neck tight, and twisting.

But don’t get him wrong. Ace was not a brute. It wouldn’t be fun to him if he broke the girl. He just felt... jealous, that was all.

Peter’s face flashed in front of his eyes, those lips that were usually twisted downwards and those  eyes which were usually dulled, and how they were right now. What a difference. What a change. Ace didn’t dislike Peter either but... he disliked how he’d changed. How the outsider had made him change, letting Peter become a more honest, more _alive_ Peter.

Ace wanted that for himself. He let his eyes toy over every part of the outsider. Her glossy black hair, which fell only to her chin, unusually short compared to the women he knew. The stiff set to her jaw, showing that despite the peaceful curve of her eyes, she wasn’t having a nice dream. Her small shoulders and more built legs, stemming to some degree of athleticism.

If he killed her this quickly... he wouldn’t be able to see either.

What made roleholders change.

The mystical power outsiders were said to have.

...Ace almost chuckled aloud at the thought.

Mystical? Power?

He knew well enough the girl at his feet had none of that. Ace was... Had been, an outsider himself. This world was just like that world. The only difference was that back there, what was gone was gone.

Wonderland didn’t work that way.

Except for her...

Ace let himself brush her bangs to the side, and the girl stirred a little, wrinkling her nose. He took his time withdrawing despite that, tracing patterns with his fingertips against her face, the grooves at the sides of her nose, the smooth plain of her forehead.

What a terrible thing it was, to finally have a once in a lifetime thing to his disposal. But he didn’t want Peter to have it, oh no.

He also didn’t want it for himself.

The false knight finally pulled his hand away, leaving her in peace. Watching over her for one minute more. He didn’t want her to die either but... maybe, before he grew an attachment, he should...

His lips pulled crookedly on his face and the sand on the road shifted as he took to one knee, and then straightened up fully.

He was just going to have to keep his distance. He began to move away, his boots flattening the grass as he walked over them, creating more and more distance in between them.

It wasn’t safe to lie on her own on the road that went into the clocktower zone. There could be bandits, enemies. But then, it didn’t concern him at all.

When Mila woke up groggily next, wiping the gunk from her eyes, there was no trace he’d actually been there.

* * *

 

_Knock knock knock._

I put my fist down, waiting for a response from the other side of the door. After I’d had my nap, I’d immediately made my way to here, in front of the clock tower.

The tower was a narrow building stacked up by blue sand stone bricks. It sat in the middle of a plaza sectioned off with glassy blue tiles from the surrounding area, dictating that it was special.

I leaned backwards onto the balls of my feet, at which point the door clicked open, revealing a man standing on the other side.

What stood out from him the most was the heavy, clock patterned coat he was wearing. And the dour expression he had on his face, which wasn’t making me feel good for interrupting him like that.

But who doesn’t try, doesn’t win, so with a smile on my face, I stuck my hand out at him and introduced myself, “Carmine.”

His eyebrows rose incredulously at my impromptu divulgence. I coughed, suddenly realizing this, and with my cheeks steaming stepped backwards from the door. Fidgeting, pulling on the strings of the bottom of my jacket, I hurried through my purpose here: “Peterwhitekidnappedmeandihave-nowheretogo, socouldyounotkickmeoutbutgivemeshelterinsteadclockmakerplease.” I ended up in a state of gasping for air. That had been quite the mouthful.

His eyebrows twitched, before they lowered in a faintly disapproving stare. The clockmaker with the flowing blue locks sighed. “Okay, come in.” Then, without further words, he pivoted on his heels and strolled back in.

I followed sedately after, and swivelled my head around to take in the tower’s interior. The space was narrower than I expected it to be. Only the ceiling was high, but even that was interrupted with the staircase that spiralled above me.

Eventually the clockmaker took me to a door in the hallway, turning the knob to open it to a reasonably sized room. There was a stereo bed pushed to the side of a wall to make more space for other things, like bookshelves and what not, and a desk placed from the east side of the window. At the moment, the desk was completely piled up with clock parts. Walking behind the man as he took a seat on the only chair in the room and gestured for me to take a seat on the bed, I presumed it was so messy because this was his workshop. My eyes flickered back to his bed. And his resting room, it would seem, though it was a bad idea to have such places so near to each other.

The clockmaker clasped his hands in front of him, his elbows leaning slightly against his knees. “So tell me again what your issue is?”

I clambered up the ladder onto the bed, and turned around so I could swing my legs over the side and not get his covers dirty. Then, matching his serious look, I began with an explanation of who I was, “this isn’t my world. And until I can leave it, that basically leaves me penniless and alone. I don’t have any money. I don’t have anywhere to stay that isn’t inhabited by the one whose fault it is I’m here. And I know this is quite presumptuous of me to ask, but I’m desperate. I have to take this risk.” I breathed in. “So... will you please let me stay here for as long as I’m in this world?”

Something I said seemed to rub the man wrong, since the more I went into my circumstances, the harsher his glare became, painting stark lines on his face. But, strangely, he was merciful despite that because next he told me, “I understand the crime that has been done to you. It should have never have happened without my permission. Your arrival here is... my responsibility. So, as long as your stay is temporary, and you promise you will leave Wonderland once you’ve got yourself sorted out... I suppose, it wouldn’t be too bad to have someone around here.”

I was ecstatic! Hearing that I did have somewhere to stay after all, I was almost delirious in my happiness. I could hug him so was my joy. And I would, if I felt like he’d be up to it.

But I gave his solemn face a once-over and came to the conclusion that no. At least not until we were better acquainted.

I instead grinned cheekily up at the man and prodded, “And your name is?”

He was taken aback. “U- uh, Julius. Julius Monrey.”

I mouthed it with him. Monrey, Julius. I would remember that.

I happily swung my legs back and forwards, clapping my hands over my knees and asked, “Now, where will I be sleeping?”

Julius gave me a look before his eyes trailed downwards onto the matrass I was already sitting on.

“Oh."

And that was how my first meeting with the clockmaker went. Him paying me a moderate bit of his attention before went back to tinker at his desk. Still on top of the bed, I was bored enough that I watched him do it for a while. His steady hands, tying and clicking together intricate parts so smoothly was almost hypnotising to watch. I felt serene. But then my stomach growling demandingly broke me from the half-statically doze I’d been in and I shuffled, climbing down the stairs of the ladder before landing on the ground.

And as it would turn out, Monrey didn’t have any food in his fridge, so I would have to go out and find an eatery in the small city attached to his clocktower. And my legs were already dead tired from all the traveling they’d had to bear to get here!

“Ah, woe is me..” I muttered underneath my breath once I was outside—it would seem the sky hadn’t changed yet since the last I’d taken note of it, which, good.

 _Aaa, I really don’t want to go!_ I whined within the contents of my mind.

Truly, the stomach was one harsh mistress.

“Okay, okay, I’ll hurry,” I mouthed next, and picked up the pace until I was entering the small town entirely. To my relief, the streets were packed with people, walking up and down the streets to get to their destination, some people standing in groups to talk to one another. It had been kind of ...odd, and also discomforting, when I’d ventured over the path to bring me to the clocktower and I’d come across nobody on my way. _It was a public space, so why had everybody been avoiding it?_

But here, thankfully, it was just as I imagined it was.

I began making my way through the crowds, looking to the side of the streets at the shops there, trying to pick out a good one to go to. There was a bakery, a sweet, savoury smell wafting out from it’s open doors, but even from standing a few metres away from it I could see it was packed. I let my eyes jump from establishment to establishment, each time crossing one out from my list. Too cutesy looking. Seems to be selling only carrots, if the rabbit appendages from all its customers would tell. Was only selling ice cream cones, and while I loved ice cream, I wanted something I could truly sink my teeth in.

Finally, I let my eyes rest on an establishment in the middle of the street, which seemed to advertise itself as a burger joint. My mouth was already salivating at the thought of going in there, having finally found a good place to eat when the penny sunk and I realized-

“Oh goody, I don’t have any money.”

 _You dumbass,_ said my mind, and I could only agree with it as I wrapped my arms around my stomach and bowed forwards in agony. It growled again- I hadn’t eaten anything for two whole days! Naturally it would grow, _I was starving it._

Grooowwwwwl. I poked at my stomach, truly in despair.

The people around we were starting to look at the scene I was making, wracking in hunger. A birth was starting to form around me too. And now I was majoring in being a street entertainment, huh?

A hand dropped onto my shoulder before I could get really riled up though, and I threw my eyes up to see a man whose face seemed to have been draw in by a pencil, the lines of his mouth and eyes coloured in but leaving everything else vaguely sketched. He had a mop of black hair above his smiling face.

“I heard what you said~ you’re hungry right? Want to come with me to that cafe~“ he pointed at the one I’d already crossed of my list as being overly cutesy. He smiled encouragement and with one hand took his wallet from his pocket and waved it in the air like a flag. “I’ll pay for you~”

The temptation was too much. Though if I was feeding myself I was pickier, since he was going to do me a favour and buy me some food, I had to agree.

He cheered, “Alright!” Starting to steer me towards that cutesy cafe with his hand still on my shoulder.

“So what’s your name?” I asked, striking up small talk while we were still underway. I was curious why exactly my saviour had decided to take pity on me, and maybe if I knew more about him I’d figure out why.

A wry grin faintly dusted on his face—from this close I could see he had freckles—and he said, “I don’t have one~, exactly.”

I widened my eyes as I looked at him and said, “What?”

“It’s true,” he elaborated, letting his hand finally slip away from my shoulder. He placed them in his pockets instead.

“But that’s... kind of inconvenient?” I said, as we came to a halt in front of the entrance of the cutesy cafe. “What do your friends and family call you by? You must have them, right, and they can’t just say “hey you” and have you know its you they’re talking to. Unless, I guess, you’re the only one without a name...”

The man opened the glass door for me that said pull not push, a soft musical beat caressing my ears as we stepped onto the polished floor. In front of us was a greeter, and the man delayed answering me as he struck up a conversation with her, and we ended up being assigned a table at the deep end of the place.

Once I’d slipped into my seat with frilly pink cushions, and he did the same opposite me. The music was still softly playing, circular tables occupying the floor filled with people sitting opposite each other. Always two, I noticed. Tapestries of historical events hung from the walls in decoration, but even these somehow managed to look cutesy.  

 “Everyone in my family~ doesn’t have a name~,” he revealed.

 _Huh? Ah, he was talking,_ I thought, and let my gaze wander back to him.

Folding his hands together, he leaned forwards across the table and confined, “It’s not really necessary except for those closest to you to be able to discriminate you from strangers~, right? And all the people who know me _know me._ It’s not like a lack of a name doesn’t let me make friends~, get a job~, or-“ he winked, “-pick up a date.”

He winked. I blinked vacantly at him. _He winked._

I gave the venue around me another look and realized what exactly had been bothering me about this place. _It was an obvious dating spot._ And... I’d just let some strange guy take me to here.

 _Dumbass,_ my thoughts echoed. Dumbass indeed.

Looking at him again, who was still smiling in anticipation for my reaction, I wondered with dread pulsing through my veins, how I was going to let this person down without him pulling a fuss.

My eyes narrowed in suspicion suddenly. Unless... I stay here and let him pay for the food and then say that I didn’t think we were compatible, and thus go that out of the way completely. My eyes widened again. Yes! I was a genius!

“Speaking of which-“ said he, while I was still busy in marvelling my genius, and reached across the purple and peaches tablecloth to clutch my hand. “-You’re absolutely adorable~. I don’t remember seeing you before, so you must have become a roleholder pretty recently, huh?”

That was the second person who’d called me adorable in the time of two days. I didn’t believe it anymore coming from this guy as I did from the queen.

 But what was that he said? Roleholder? I puzzled over it as a waiter sashayed towards us in a maid outfit (for the love of god, why). The word did come in familiar- ah. I mentally hit the palm of my hand with my other fist. That was right- that was the exact conclusion the knight had drawn when he’d first seen me. And I already knew from Peter’s explanation that the roleholders were the defacto ruling class of the territories.

A somewhat rueful smile flittered across my cheeks. Should I take that for a compliment then?

-“What do you want?” the man asked me politely, and I smiled across from where we were still holding hands at him, and asked whether there was steak on the menu. Oh, and not to forget to wet my throat, whether they also had a milkshake. Strawberry, of course.

His face changed, nose scrunching up and the corners of his lips twitching like he was holding in laughter. “That’s an interesting combination.”

Withdrawing my hand, I placed them at either side of my hips and harrumphed at him. “And you? What are you getting?”

He told me he was getting a panini and a glass of orange juice. Inwardly, I judged him. Good for getting a bite between meals, but as a meal itself? Oh no, naturally not. I shook my head at this tragic fellow.

He just watched me do it with an indulgent smile.

This might be the most awkward food hit up not date I’d ever gone on.

As I sat down against the plush lining of my seat, he began to speak more about himself. The usual topics. How he was working full time in a job he was sure was going to kill him one of these days. (Join the club, I ruled). How his boss wasn’t the problem but his co-workers were, with their constant slacking of creating problems for the company. (Slacking of is natural in most places, I ruled). How to be honest, this was actually the first time he’d entered this town but it was alright because it was neutral and for once he wouldn’t have to keep looking over his shoulder. (I sympathized- it must be terrible living in a world where at any time your land mass could be invaded and then occupied by people belonging from a different class than you).

“I really like it though,” he admitted with a sheepish dip of his head. “I got to notice~ you here, which wouldn’t have happened if I didn’t take the plunge. It’s just... since you’re a roleholder, I doubt this is going to get any further than just this date~, is it?” His eyes sparkled hopefully, “Or are you by chance a roleholder from the Hatter’s family~?”

I told him I was not, to which he bowed his head with a frown creating wrinkles on his forehead.

But hey! I now had a good excuse to use that wasn’t just lack of compatibility, so that was good.

Sipping on my milkshake straw, I let him continue filling the air with his thoughts. Soon enough, we were both done with our meals.

And now I could get going. I stood up with a scrape of my chair legs against the floor, clapped my hands in front of me, and bowed. “Thank you for bringing me here!” It was _not_ fun, but he’d still paid for my meal, so I figured some gratitude was in option.

He looked despondently down at his plate. “Yes. It was fun.”

I flashed him a smile with teeth as I put on the jacket I’d had draped over the back of my chair. “Let’s _not_ do this again-!” One hand in the air, I waved him farewell and started on a jogging pace towards the door, a bell sounding as I ducked through the arch ways again.

I came out on the street, seeing that the time hadn’t changed since I was inside. Still sunny blue skies. How strange, how long this afternoon was lasting.

As I walked, I let my gaze run over the other people on the street in lieu of nothing to do. It was then when, as the only one in the crowd with a face I could recognize immediately, and whose outfit was also quite a bit richer than the others, my eyes were drawn to Julius Monrey.

“What are you doing here?” I mouthed to myself.

He seemed to be searching for someone, a pinched look to his lips as he moved his head left and then right, before they passed over me. Not a moment later the look hardened, and he was making his way over to me with furious strides.

He thrusted something towards me, and I looked down to see it was-

“Ah.”

-a wallet. Of course.

Then, he pivoted on his heel, his hair whipping out from him in a twirl, and stormed away again.

....

....Had he just been looking for me the entire time I was in that cafe? Oh my god, poor guy. I started towards him, wanting to apologise for that. Because on hindsight, I should have just gone back to the clocktower once I realized I didn’t have any money on me rather than going along with freckled man’s delusional. I’d known Julius knew I wanted to get some food, so what a good person would do was try to catch up with the person walking away without any money for that food.

I’d just been so absorbed I hadn’t acknowledged this. Though _I knew_ he was a good person – that was the whole point of letting me stay with him free of charge.

“Julius!” I shouted. “Hey, Julius! ... Wait up!”

Showing an irritated expression, Julius who was looking over his shoulder at me did slow down so I could catch up. I ended up walking beside him, feet going thump thump against the cobbled tiles from our combined footsteps.

“Really, thank you for that. You really didn’t need to wait on me to give me this money to buy food with. So thanks.”

I didn’t really know how to bring up the fact that I was sorry for not turning back to get the money, and stayed silence once I’d finished my sentence.

That didn’t seem to deter him, a voice as deep and rumbling as granite grinding against itself saying, “You don’t need to mention it ... I decided to follow behind you, so you couldn’t know I was here.”

I hissed through my teeth. Aaah, so I hadn’t been as successful at keeping it on the low down as I’d thought I was. But when I peeked over my shoulder at him, I saw his face was composed, calm, like it wasn’t a big deal. The tension drained from me a bit like an emptying sink, and soon I was smiling as I walked alongside him.

He blinked his surprise when we got to the clocktower and I made a motion to go into the door.

“You don’t want to stay out for longer?”

“And do what?” I asked flippantly, keeping the door open with my stretched arm for him. “Sure, I got to meet someone today, but that was an exercise in awkwardness. And the only other people I know are.... Peter and Ace, and the queen. And I don’t want to see them just yet.”

Maybe once I felt more confidence in my standing in this new world, I’d be okay with being in the presence of those who wanted to chain me down (Peter), whose motives I was uncertain off (Ace) and who seemed to want to eat me up and quite frankly intimidated me (Vivaldi).

But for now, I got enough thrill with the activities which had already taken place and needed to recharge in safety before I’d seek it out again.

And yes, maybe in my heart of hearts, I’d still prefer to face any of those three trauma inducing castle goers than return back home to my own world _just yet_ —but I was equally as sure that I couldn’t stay here forever. That way lay madness (and meant the avoiding of dealing with my problems).

“You don’t want to explore Wonderland?” Julius asked me, taking the door from me to close it.

I shuffled uncertainty on the foyer’s floor. “I’m not a very “place” person, honestly speaking.”

Julius moved past me, calling over his shoulder, “Come along then. If you’re quiet I’ll let you watch me do my work.”

So he noticed my eyes had been stuck on his hands back when we’d been speaking. But really, Julius was a good person. He wanted to entertain me even though he could’ve easily seen it as my problem for not going out and kicked me out of his work place so I wouldn’t distract him. He was too good for me.

I affirmed cheerfully, “Okay!”

Jogging, I caught up to him, and began to climb the bed again.

I had a good vantage point from up here.

End.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your kudos watergoddesskasey. Almost nobody seems to want to kudos my hnkna stories these days.... *thousand yard stare*  
> Please leave a comment on the new update below~


	3. New Mottos

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> My first motto in this new world is not to feel shame! ... It isn't very effective.

Characters showing up in this chapter: Julius, Ace, Peter, and Vivaldi~

* * *

 

A couple of weeks passed since then, and I got rather familiar with the layout of the town at the side of the clocktower.

I got to know that there were two libraries for me to peruse from, and that I preferred the larger one I could get lost into to the smaller, non-fictional dominating one.

I got to actually try the burger joint, only to be so grievously disappointed I never went back there since, preferring instead the more pricier, more classier, and usually the sort of place I would avoid, restaurant which was the first establishment seen when entering the street.

I avoided the club places even though personally I did want to do something more fun than reading all day, because they were filled with people and also pricy, both of which did not endear them to me.

I also found out that I didn’t need any more clothes than what I was already wearing—it would naturally clean itself and repair itself as time passed, and that was the same for everything else in this world.

The grass that I’d probably trampled walking through the forest with Peter White? Would most certainly have been repaired by now and I’d find the plants completely uninjured if I went back. Any injuries that I gained from potential scuffles would also be healed though, like my world, that was only if the injuries could be healed. Someone who died from their wounds before time passed by maybe losing too much blood or dying on the spot were shit out of luck.

And I finally have to admit defeat at sticking around to the neutral area of the clocktower and assorted, because it was starting to feel boring, boring, boring. Watching Julius’s work calmed me down but it was also a snooze-fest, and while talking to him to get my daily required social intake was always an interesting affair since he knew quite a lot and his reactions were plain amusing, he didn’t always have time for me. This sort of monotonous drudgery was quickly starting to approach the same levels as back home, where nothing ever happened and each day was the same, and it was driving me mad.

When I said this to Julius, in perhaps a much too angry outburst, he pointed me to the amusement park which was meant specifically to entertain people like me who didn’t do anything at all each day.

And there was where I was heading right now, jogging down the footpath that should take me there. As always, I wasn’t coming across anyone on the road even though it should be a public road that everyone uses to get to the other territories-

Oh.

But if the normal people had a tendency to stay put at one territory over the others, then maybe that’s why I didn’t meet anyone on my travels passing through them?

That could actually be a thing. It explained this whole situation neatly, and made me feel less like maybe people did walk the paths, saw me, and took a beeline away. Because that’d be tragic, if my having a face was something that deterred people from taking the public roads.

Because that’s the idea I had—that my having a face was a source for unease to the people I’d met so far. Outside that one person who’d been completely comfortable with me on that second day, to the point of hoodwinking me onto a date, the other people I talked to did so reluctantly, and the people who didn’t recoiled from me before they had to.

I’d also asked Julius about this, and while he was of the opinion that my presence in his clocktower and being seen around him were the reason for this mistreatment, since he sure wasn’t a popular guy despite his work being such an integral part of Wonderland, I still thought differently. My one time date buddy had said it, after all—only roleholders had faces, and anyone who saw me would immediately think I was one, but wouldn’t know from which territory I aligned to and so were uneasy around me.

Pillowing my arms behind my head, I pondered about the merits of uncovering that I was actually a foreigner to the people of the town, instead of letting them assume I was a roleholder. There was but one thing stopping me from doing that—and that was the idea that I’d be treated differently like that.

I smiled without irony because what was that even? I was complaining about wanting to be treated differently because I was sick and tired of scaring the people, and yet I didn’t _actually_ want for them to. Wasn’t that a logical fallacy? A laugh escaped my lips, and I stared up at the orange sky, knowing fully well there were many advantages to being seen as a roleholder I didn’t want to give up on yet.

Even if that did mean people recoiled from me like we were in the middle-ages and I was a leper.

As I let my eyes drop from the sky, I saw I was approaching the entrance of the amusement park, if I could construe the pink park front, which took a lot from the subjective experience of candy, as that.

People with chalk-faint facial features (as usual) were queuing up to enter the gates, and meanwhile I slowed my stride and grimaced. It was evening, right? So why were so many people still wanting to enter the park venue? I wasn’t going to have to wait in line with them...was I?

...Maybe I could use my roleholder impersonation to skip the line. It was an arguably rude thing to do, but it wasn’t like these people weren’t used to playing second banana to the roleholders _anyway_. _And_ if I felt guilty doing it, I could play it of for myself as payment in exchange for letting them continue cringing away from me. And didn’t I deserve nice things? I’d been low key and kind to the people in the town, hadn’t I?

So with that in mind, I placed my hands in my pockets and strolled naturally up the side of the line as if I belonged there, ready to cut the people at the front when they would be let in. The ticket people said “next” and without words I took the step up to the stall selling them before the people behind me could react.

They then still didn’t react—none of them did, none called me out, not a single one of them—as I took out my wallet and casually paid the ticket lady with the money Julius had given me as my allowance. The ticket lady also didn’t say anything, a plastic smile on her written-in-smoke face as she let me past the checking place.

Only when I had put some space in between the entrance of the park and I, did I let my shoulders slump and put my hands out in front of me. They were shivering, goosebumps popping out from the skin—but it was out of excitement. I moved my hand up to cover my smiling face.

Holy hell, I’d gotten away with it.

Even these thrills, though not life threatening, were the spice of life which made life worth living.

The corners of my lips working up naturally, I caught sight of a large purple Ferris Wheel in the distance and eagerly began making a beeline for it.

(The question about whether or not I’d had a right to do the generally rude thing I’d just done, I stuffed into the back of my mind to never revisit again).

Ten minutes later found me reaching the zenith of the park ride, getting my first real glimpse of how much land mass the amusement park actually spread across. A scary lot. And—shielding my eyes against the glare of the sun—red. My first thought, foolishly, ran along the line of “ _crushed roses?”_ but soon enough reality burst in and my eyes flew over the viscera, the blood, the bleeding and crippled bodies of what remained of a crash. _Almost like a child’s abandoned doll left on a shelf to rot._

And the _people_ —they were possibly the most disturbing thing about this whole scenario. Unfeeling, uncaring crowds which ignored the scene like one entity on itself.

I couldn’t see their faces from up here, their expressions, but I was almost certain they wouldn’t care, stepping with distaste away from the blood leaking out.

The only exception of this was a child walking along with her mother, noticing the blood and trying to touch it, only to be dragged away by her mother’s handhold.

And that’d been _curiosity—_ not “horror”.

I felt a cold chill as I realized there was nobody there who would feel like I was at this. Nobody would see this scene in this world and empathise with it. She felt _estranged._

They were monsters, all of them.

I teared my eyes away.

The gruesome facts were trying to draw them back, urging me to look. And maybe I was in a moment of delayed suspension, eyes dropping and then gluing onto the backs of my hands, which were growing white by how hard I had them gripping the railing.

A heartbeat passed and I looked up again, tensing myself in preparation—

“What...?”

The word slipped numb lips, breathed out by rapidly deflating lungs as I held my breath.

“W—Whaat?”

Because in front of me, where lay the scene of decay, the broken wreckage of an amusement park ride and its customers, the scattered remains of a tragedy at hand, was “Nothing.”

Everything crystalized in _this_ moment, in this _right now._

“Nothing at all.”

The words rolled decadently of my tongue, and I was silent for the rest of the ride, only shaking out of myself when the squeaking of the wheels announced my arrival at the bottom of the wheel. Stomach feeling faintly queasy, I let the door swing open and I stepped over the bottom base of the door, hearing the locking mechanisms go click behind me as I wandered off.

I put space between myself and the cart, foot over foot. I counted the steps I took, as the heel of my shoe hit the ground, the top part deflating as I used it to push off.

But what about the scene of the crime?

Reality hit me like a slap of water in the face and I was tearing over the grounds before I knew it.

Pushing people on the footpath out of my way, elbowing for each inch I took, until I spilled out onto the square in front of the towering purple coloured rollercoaster.

There I was.

At the crime scene.

I took in the location, the neatness of the tiles, the sun beating down from the sky. As pristine as I’d seen in that second glance.

I almost laughed.

And what had it I’d expected to see? But the laughter felt bubbly, like fizzy juice in my veins, but it felt bitter, like the bad aftertaste of bad choices made.

Any hope I had of understanding anything about this place had just snuffed out.

I knew I wasn’t mentally unsound—I hadn’t had a hallucination in my life, and I doubted I’d start on an idle day that I took a Ferris ride to amuse myself with, over that time Ace flung a sword at my head.

In some ways, this was relieving. Freeing.

That there was no hope in understanding, meant I could frivolously continue onwards like I had till now, right? No place for fretting here, or for preparing for the future which possibly wouldn’t come.

Yes.

I was starting to warm up to the idea.

Can you imagine it? No longer calculating what to think, what to do, who to be, because this place was beyond calculation. No longer a state of grey, unending, lack of animation. Here, what took place was the present, and you have to accept it if there is any hope you won’t twist your mind into pretzels trying to keep up.

Breathe in. Breathe out.

 _I’m untethered._ My mind feeling strangely full, I strode confidently through the crowd until I found a place to sit, and sat there until the hour’s end.

Later.

“I’m home.”

The door swung open as I spoke, Julius’s timbrous voice already greeting me “Welcome home.”

I took a few steps over the floor before turning and draping my coat from the hanger. “I’m going to go relax on top of the tower.”

I didn’t hear anything being said back, which was enough of an answer to me, and took the stairs up twice at a time.

The view, when I got to the top of the tower, was breath taking as usual. As the location where the other territories met, I could see the queen’s kingdom in the east, the musician’s amusement park in the west and the mafia boss’s collection of labyrinthic street tunnels in the south.

I unmistakably cringed when I turned to look at the amusement park. There it was in front of me, like a finished picture puzzle stretching out, its walls marbled pink like spun cotton and its contents like a too sweet piece of candy to be unwrapped. All things past and childlike, I’d nevertheless sought it out to give myself something new to do.

And I had found entertainment there, that I didn’t doubt.

The steps of the stairs up to the walls of the tower creaked.

I looked over at the endlessly blue skies and leaned my arms onto the railing, not even surprised when a hand touched my shoulder.

_Julius._

I turned.

My breath caught, before I coughed and squeaked out, “Oh, it’s you.”

Julius was not the face that I saw, the psychotic knight’s smile greeting me instead.

Caught momentarily off balanced, I moved back, my foot hitting the fence.

He waved casually, like we were friends. “So how can I make it comfortable for you, speaking for me?”

I blinked at him, nonplus. “Hmm, I don’t know. If you didn’t try to shear my head of my body, maybe you wouldn’t be in such an ordeal?” The sarcasm came naturally, but even beyond it, I held genuine curiosity towards his answer. What had he thought would happen by approaching me like this? I wanted _to know._

The sir knight, with shrugging shoulders and a refreshing air, confessed, “Mr Peter never told me not to go after anyone he was close to before. I didn’t think you being his lover would create such a difference in him, that he’d be that mad.”  

I stood still, listening.

His explanation did ring of truth. Though I still thought he didn’t like me a lot, I doubted dislike would push him to kill me. Maybe disinterest would, or as he said, if he thought my death would bring him something (Peter White’s lamentation? His freedom? This required further thought...) but not dislike. 

I made a cautious guess, “Is this you warning me about the prime minister?”

Ace laughed. “If you wanted to be warned, you’d have asked any of the castle maids or soldiers in our territory, or plucked any person from the street. Besides,” the smirk spread on his face, laughter dancing within his eyes, “Besides, didn’t what I just say broadcast the importance he holds you in? He thinks of you as special, but that’s just him. I think of you as a trespasser to a world that is not yours and was never meant to be yours.”

My eyebrows furrowed at his words, metal biting into soft tissue as a I slowly tightened my grip on the railing. “But, it was you who pointed out I should be aware I didn’t want to go, right?” His words hadn’t been friendly in the least.

 _How unfair..._ despite the biting words leaving his mouth, his friendly countenance didn’t waver even an inch when my falsehoods never bear water. His face was the sort that had been built for merriment and putting people at ease, and I was sure he’d made good use of it more than once. It meant it was difficult discerning any one true emotion from him.

The thought did condense that he’d be fun to banter with, if and when I could be sure of my safety around him. But for now, no matter how much I wanted to parry word swords with him, reigning myself in was the better move.

Mentally, I pulled a face. Reigning myself in had never been one of my best skills.

For now, I wanted to garner a reaction from him, so I threw my arms into the air and said, “Fine. Fine. If you really think I don’t belong here... go ahead. I’ve had a terrible day—I just came back probably hallucinating a crash right out of the scene of a _horror flick_ , am clearly growing as mental as you people from Wonderland are, so maybe-“ I threw my arms out, “ _Maybe,_ I belong here, have you thought about that?”  

My arms violently wind-milled in the air, I started aggressively stepping towards him. But this was a show, I was paying more attention to the breathless hope-- Was he going to take the bait?

I saw his hand move from his side up to the hilt of his sword and felt a kick of adrenaline in my stomach. He _was!_

But he removed it just as quickly (disappointment, thy name is Mila), spiky red hair in his eyes as he quietly contemplated the palm which had touched the hilt.

And then, purposefully, he lifted his head, smiled like a sphynx, and riddled me this: “In wonderland, how can you know what real is and what isn’t? This world cleanses and repairs the rips and stains in your clothing doesn’t it: washes away all unsightliness without a trace?”

That was all I needed from him. Confirmation that the illusion wasn’t an illusion after all. But the vague turn of his words, how he was _still_ keeping things from me, irritated me! Beyond all measure!

_But I can’t._

A breath. I closed my eyes, carefully keeping count of my heartbeats before letting it out. I thought briefly about the people who’d died and wished any family they had left behind the best.

The matter had been settled, the pressure, the tension I’d been keeping in my shoulders draining away. I wasn’t crazy at all! And feeling thankful, still trying to still go for curtesy, I magicked up a smile, opening my mouth to thank him-

“Don’t.” He smiled peculiarly, spitefully and I almost took a step back. “Don’t thank me.”

The youthful knight shook his head in a spiral of red spikes while I stared at him askance.

“That was just a freebie,” he went on, with a flourish of his hand in the air. “Julius appreciates you a lot and I appreciate Julius, and _that’s_ the reason I helped you with this mix-up.”

He didn’t have to tell me that this was the only freebie I was going to get. But freebie... did that mean, I would be able to get his help if I needed it, but only by paying something in exchange? The smile on his face was still metallic, so I thought I wouldn’t want to.

Though, not even I could be so high and mighty as to believe there wouldn’t be further misunderstandings, and I appreciated the warning.

It didn’t stop the dislike from gathering underneath my skin like static shock, but it was at this time I heard the close sounds of steps creaking from the direction of the door. Julius, it had to be. My dislike would have to remain concealed from now, the minute twitches of Ace’s broad shoulders telling me he’d heard that as well.  

The door swinging open without delay, in swooped Julius with a toss of blue locks. Impatiently reaching for Ace, the man looked in my direction with an apologetic: “Sorry for the disruption this piece of shit had on your relaxation,” the swearing making me want to wash out my ears because wasn’t Julius stuff, wasn’t this out of character?

The door swung shut before I could think up a rely.

My bewilderment stayed with me.

A week (or 27 time turns) later, found me speaking to Julius in our room as usual. Me leaning over his chair and him with his head tilted towards me as he listened, telling him that I was going to meet the queen. “She creeps me out a bit,” I told him, “But I’m equally as sure that a woman like that is used to being obeyed. She’ll send Peter or someone else to fetch me, soon.” And it went left unsaid that the queen’d prefer the first chain of events to the last.

The face he made at the idea of a Peter-invasion was amusing, but also led to me reaffirming my decision to go out myself.

My walk towards the queen’s castle was uneventful, but I was glad when the rose bushes which littered the beginning of her majesty’s beloved garden came into view.

Walking through the labyrinth, I waved at the soldiers standing guard, not expecting them to stop me. They nodded back, so I presume I had free reign, as I’d half hoped half dreaded. _It means Peter still expects me to come here._

I walked past some bushes, my strides making dull thumping sounds, and...

Silver locks. Peter. Standing with his back to me, the tall man was discussing something with a maid.

I stop in my movement, ducking behind the bush, hoping that... what? That I hadn’t been seen?

But I can’t stop the curiosity surging through me—something felt wrong about that scene. I peaked over again.

Peter White was coolly making his point, his eyes at an unaffected half-mast, a stiff set to his jaw. Unlike when in my presence, he was very unsmiling and a bit less... bouncy?

I rummaged about whether that was the correct word—he was too “refined” for it to fit perfectly.

And the maid’s face was turned right at me.

I might have eeped.

I pulled my head back into the comforting barrier of the bush, staying still, breath stocking, ears sharpening, wondering whether Peter knew I was here. It didn’t occur to me to run.

A face poked around the branches, a huge smile growing on that face, and I was tugged forwards by my wrists before he let them go into a hug. While all that happened, I wasn’t even able to move.

“Peter,” I sighed where I was face planted into his shoulder.

“We haven’t seen each other in so long; just let me have this.”

He squeezed tighter as I turned my head to look at him.

Maybe the uncharacteristic behaviour I noticed was because of this? I could only guess—I’d had only one sample to make inferences on—but it seemed viable. So I let myself reach out and pat carefully on the him on the back.

“So kind-!” he chocked out.

I snapped my hands back again at the extreme reaction, to which he in turn drew back and it finally dawned on him to ask what I was doing at the castle for. “Are you going to meet her majesty the queen?” he asked simply, and without the petulance I’d expected.

“You’re right. I wanted to see the queen, since she invited me to that tea party,” I affirmed and stilled to see what he’d do.

He reached out for my hand again, saying “I’ll escort you there, okay?”

Making a “Hrrm” noise and looking thoughtfully to the side, I thought this over. On one hand—still obsessed kidnapper, and I shouldn’t be giving him any slack, which I would be if I let him spend more time in my presence. On the other—the queen was someone who didn’t love me unlike Peter liked to proclaim he did, and so I’d be in safer hands letting Peter escort me than going to her alone....

_That alone solidified my decision._

I nodded at him, a sharp jerk of the chin. “Okay, escort me then.”

With his answering smile, his eyes seemed to ooze a shade red like blood. But I was probably just imagining things.

“So, what have you been spending your days with?” he asked over the crunching of our feet over grass.

I tilted my head, admitting half abashed, “Don’t know about spending with. But I’ve been using the time you gave me here to basically do whatever I want. Everything I want including relaxing or looking for amusements. It’s been interesting.”

We idled past another group of soldiers I recognised were the sentry.

“That reminds me: what exactly do you do as prime minister?” I sized him up, before arching my brow. “...wait, wasn’t it bullying that king dude to do your job for you?”

“It takes more out of you than you’d expect,” he confined, conversationally. The man truly possessed no shame... kind of like I was, back in the amusement park before that illusion ruined it.

While I’d been pondering to myself, Peter adjusted his glasses and peered at me in amusement. “Do you want me to take on a higher work load hmm? Maybe if you usurp the queen, I will.”

The underlying thought being that he’d love to spend time in my presence, and didn’t of this queen.

I looked at him wonderingly, retaking his measure. “You really do mean that, don’t you?”

To be honest, I pitied the queen with such an useless subordinate, but the feeling passed quickly. To be more precise, I couldn’t care less. If he wanted to play hooky, then _enjoy that, Peter_. It’s not like I was the one dealing with his attitude.

Abruptly Peter swung my arm up, and before I could get the stiff appendage to move, turned it around and kissed the back of it’s wrist.

Peter narrating, “If you could become _my_ colleague...” I took a step back to regain my balance, and then scowled mock seriously at him.

“No thank you. Being in such close quarters with someone who enjoys my presence to such an extent, seems a bit... perverse.”

He actually let out a huff of amusement at the idea. “My lovely, I’d never make you that uncomfortable.”

I almost went out and gestured at the arm he still had trapped, but on second thought, I knew he was very well aware of that. From how his eyes were dancing, staring almost worshipful into mine, I did almost fool myself, though. In the end, “... Right.” I could only tuck a lock of hair behind my ear in lieu of any definite reply.

Which meant changing the subject. Shaking the grip of his hand off, I looked to the front of me, at the windy path which snaked up on top the hill the castle was at. “Who was it exactly who decided on the layout of your grounds? ‘Cause lemme tell you, walking these mazes and up the hill each time is getting tedious.”

The bunny-eared principal of this kingdom looked thoughtfully out in the distance, giving me a side view of his face. “That is a question. Are you really wanting me to find that out?” The amusement was there again; in the light curl to his smile; in the way his eyes sought out mine with a glittering secret in their depths.  

I shrugged, letting him take the answer as he will.   _I am_ the best _at small talk._

And with that, we started wandering up the first steps of the windy path, birds zooming above us with their singing calls. Stiffening a yawn, stuffing my hands in my pockets, I kept my eyes level with them as I stepped.

 _Am I starting to get narcoleptic, I wonder?_ A lot of time during this adventure I’d been getting more tired than usual.

Peter was being silent. I looked at him sideways through sleepy eyes. He was striding confidently forwards, his face neutral but not icy nor closed up as it had been with the maid. Did my mere presence really have such an affect on him? I could barely swallow having an affect on anyone. So that decided it—he really did have to be crazy to choose me, boring me, conventional me, out of the many girls in the world he’d had his pick from.

 _But don’t take me wrong, okay?_ I realize perfectly well whoever you fall in love with has nothing to do with reason; that it is irrational. The many people who end up with pieces of shit as their partners has convinced me as such, as had a couple of personal experiences.

 _I guess that I had just thought that..._ this person, from such a different world, who had lived a life so far removed from mine... that the rules had to be different with him.

 _Besides, if it were just love, it’d make it easier for me to swallow_. I watched his side profile: the sunlight catching his eyelashes, making the silver shimmer; my eyes caught by the mellow curve of his jawline. _It... wasn’t_. He adored me. You can love someone without liking someone, experience told, but he liked _me_ as a _person_.

 _That’s why..._ I couldn’t accept Peter’s behaviour as easily. I couldn’t help but question the reason why it was me who was chosen.

Peter White continued walking, and I spied the smooth lines of his collarbone, the military precision of his unbroken gait. And I watched.

Eventually, we got to the queen’s audience room. Hurriedly, the guards at either side of the door bowed their heads to Peter and swung the several ton heavy metal door open. I did not understand their trependence, but now we were navigating the wine-red carpet and I couldn’t spare anymore brain cells on it.

“Your highness.”

Once he’d gotten to the top of the room, right in front of the podium, it was Peter’s turn to sweep into a bow, mirrored by me who’d remembered from my experience the last time I’d showed up here.

The woman looked surprised for a second, her red eyes wide where they looked at us, before she narrowed them again, on Peter, and smirked. She then said, aimed at me, “You don’t need to bow, foreigner. In fact, we insist you come up here with us. Sit next to me?” She patted the blue patterned with gold cushion on the pillow next to her.

At first I did nothing, stilling as I turned my head to look uncertainly at Peter and then cursing myself for the movement in the same breath. He wasn’t a person I should be seeking for assurance.

Stiffly, I started walking up to the podium, and when I neared it, the queen held out her hand. I noticed she had pretty peaches-and-cream varnish on her nails. She gripped my hand and pulled me up the step and towards her. At the same time, she kept a pleasant smile on her face aimed at Peter and draped a companionable arm around my shoulder.

What was this, work place rivalry?!

Peter spoke, “My queen, do you not think you have better things to do than be all over someone who is a stranger to you?”

“Isn’t it you who, as my prime minister, has better things to do than watch his superior and her guest interact like a voyeur, Peter?” The queen purred back.

I swear I could see a string of lightning connect the two of them. Being in the middle of that was awkward, honestly.

Peter clicked his tongue. “But enough about that. Shouldn’t we be getting ready for your tea party?”

“I don’t want to anymore,” the queen thumbed her nose at him and suddenly clutched me even closer. Her face hovering over the crook of my neck. “Mila wants to spend time with us. _You_ are interloping.”

Why couldn’t anyone call me by my full name anymore. (At this point I felt unflappable about this whole situation. It was just too ridiculous).

Peter was tilting his head in my direction now. “Is that so? You don’t want me there?” There was a lonesome note creeping in his voice.

I couldn’t do anything but blink and point at myself. “Me?” Since when was anything about this my choice? The queen started conspicuously toying with a strand of my hair, reminding me about her presence. Not that at any point during this conversation I had forgotten about her.

But I got the message. “Sorry Peter, but I did come here today specifically to meet with the queen,” I said apologetically.

“Haa, I see.” Peter looked towards me, nodding his head, and then bowed for his queen. I couldn’t discern any change in his demeanour. Turning on his heel, eventually he left.

So now I was here. Alone. With the queen I’d heard beheads people.

_Fantastic._

When the door shut behind him, a warped grin unmasked on her majesty’s face. She was staring at the door while doing so, so I thought it was likely Peter was the cause.

Finally, she turned to look at me and walked around my back to link our arms. “That was fun, us three should do that again sometime.”

“I don’t know what you mean with ‘fun’”. Belatedly I realized I’d forgotten a word. “Uh, your majesty.”

She patted me on the crook of my arm. “It’s fine, it’s fine. I told you call me by Vivaldi, didn’t I?”

“You’re correct, Vivaldi. But you are a queen, so, I think there should be some formality.” Even if I tended to forget that fact rather quickly, it would seem.

Vivaldi let out a deflating noise. “How boring! That is exactly how everyone else acts.” While complaining, she made us descend from the podium and start walking towards the exit. “Is it so much to ask for, to ask you, who isn’t a citizen from my kingdom, to treat me like a human being for once?” Vivaldi’s eyes were glimmering with bottled-up emotion, unshed tears threatening to fall.

Privately I thought, _maybe, if you didn’t hack people’s heads of who acted improperly towards you and your status._ As you can imagine, I wasn’t very taken in by her abrupt sob story.

Some part of my real feelings slipped out. “Aww, so you want to become a real girl? There there.” It was my turn to pat her on the arm.

Vivaldi didn’t seem to notice, or care. She released a theatrical sound. “I know. Isn’t it the worst? The constant bowing, the constant yes-manning. I truly need someone on my side I can say is a real friend, and who’ll treat me like one too.”

The thing is, looking over at her sober face, I thought she actually meant all of that. There was a disconnect in her that didn’t realize that her tyrannical actions had consequences. She wants to have her cake and eat it too. _How fitting._

I voiced my doubts. “But why do you want me to be that friend? I might leave Wonderland eventually. I mean, I’m certainly planning on making my stay here temporary.”

“And I’m sure you’ll succeed in that venture,” Vivaldi cooed, in the manner you’d reassure a naive child, not an adult like myself. Just as I had her. Touché, queen. Touché.

We moved from under the arched doorway. I twisted back to spy on the soldiers standing guard, expecting her at any moment to call for them. But contrary to my expectations, we got further down the corridor, and then turned the corner, and she didn’t do so.  

Jerking my head back, I looked at her face again for clues.

But outside from a frivolous smile and an expectant look aimed at me, there was no reason for it I could discern.

“Now, let’s talk,” she suggested as we walked through the broad corridor.

“What did you want to talk about?” I repeated after her.

Our feet made soft pitter patter sounds on the smooth floor, sounding almost lonesome in an area which could easily carry a lot more people.

Vivaldi looked thoughtfully in front of her. “Hm, now that is a question to ask.” She looked over, red eyes appraising. “In that case, knowing more about you seems interesting to us.”

“What would be interesting to know?” I immediately shot back, though going over certain incidents in my past in the back of my mind.

The queen’s insidious voice didn’t leave me alone. “Isn’t it that memories are what makes the man? Or in our case, woman. And you want to go back home, no? So shouldn’t you keep your memories close?

“I- get what you’re saying,” I sighed, bowing my head to the inevitability of it all.

If I thought there was nothing interesting in my past before I came here anyway, there was no law that she needed to feel the same way. Probably if I gave her a few anecdotes of what seemed, at first glance, to have had an effect on me, I’d probably satisfy her.

“I’m actually not an only child, though I am the youngest,” I opened up with, over the tapping of our feet as we still wandered.

“How unexpected,” she opined, but only that, letting me take over from there.

“I have four brothers in total. My relationship with the one closest in age to me is exactly the same you’d expect from brother-sister relationships. On some days we went at it like cat and dogs,” I smiled here, a self-pitying smile, “Though on other days we were as thick as thieves. His personality wasn’t exactly anything that’d click with mine – in fact, I’m not shy to say we clashed more that we get along, but as he grew older and no longer thought it was cool to spend time with a younger sister, our animosity _and_ friendship weakened. We grew distant as a consequence.”

At this point, we saw each other only during the holidays, like any other estranged pair of siblings.

“And your older brothers?” Vivaldi queried, her face having taken on all the hallmarks of interest. She’d also slowed down her gait since I’d started explaining.

I sighed, brushing a lock of my dark hair behind my ear. “I skip between being pretty close and pretty distant depending on my proximity with them. Take my oldest brother – we’re a continent away from each other and don’t even bother to chat, despite him being my favourite out of my siblings once upon a time. It’s the same for the rest of my brothers, except for the one I espoused about before. I never had that camaraderie with them as I had with that brother, you see. Although I say I’m pretty close to them, that was only because they’re family and it’s easier spending time with them than strangers.”

At my elaboration, a spot between Vivaldi’s eyes creased. It verged more on concentration than irritation, I saw to my relative joy. “So, the take away from that is, you didn’t have any friends?”

I shook my head, black strands of my hair hitting the back of my neck. “No, I didn’t. I didn’t especially want to, since I already had **...** playmates **,** I suppose you could say.”

If I wanted human interactions, the humans were right there already.  

“Assumedly that led to a very isolated existence,” Vivaldi mused, but the airy tone of it led me to think it was more to herself than anything.

She switched her attention on me again, with a confiding smile. “And hobbies? Anything to get you out of the house, Mila dearest?”

The word triggered something, and I smiled in nostalgia. “Drawing. I really enjoyed going to certain locations and drawing them-since I was better at true to nature drawing than doing it without references, and I was a dumb kid who didn’t realize you could use a computer to look it up for you.”

My smile broke as I stretched my arm out, letting the sleeve fall backwards. “That was before I broke my wrist and could, for a while, not hold a pencil out of pain. I fell out of practice after that. I spent a lot of time afterwards just reading instead.” A ring of white scar tissue surrounded the wrist, reminders of that time.

Vivaldi tutted before reaching out a hand. She let it hover there, her eyes asking me for permission. I made a careless gesture with the appendage, and she took a hold of my wrist, rotating it this way and that. Cooed, “What an awful break.”

“Aa,” I said, agreeing with her.

The light from the windows at the side of the corridor shown on us, bringing the scar in even greater focus.

I looked at it myself and my lips tightened, and I criticized, _what an eyesore._

Vivaldi babbled more to my scar, “Poor Mila. Does it hurt?”

“I’m grimacing because it’s ugly,” I told her, and with a tug rescued my arm back. My sleeve fell back in the same motion, but I made sure to pat it down just to be sure.

The queen, after giving me an undecipherable look, followed my wishes and changed the subject. “Ah, but if you don’t draw anymore, you must have other hobbies? You need to tell us what you want, and we’ll assuredly build it.”

And it came out: her intentions for that interaction. I smiled incredulously, “You’ll build it? ... Are you expecting me to say something like “tennis playing is fun”, and will then build me a tennis court?”

Business like, the queen said, “Then, do you want that-?“

I raised both hands. “NO nononono, really don’t go to that extent. Just thinking about it hurts inside.” _Also, I’m planning on leaving soon; anything big like that wouldn’t be finished by the time I left._ But I kept that bit to myself.

At my words, the queen pouted like a child whose toy had been taking away. “But otherwise, you are planning on staying away from here.” Her words did not change that impression of mine.

And this was the queen I’d been so afraid of? I sighed in my heart. . .

I lifted my hands in placation. “I _promise_ I won’t go of and never visit this castle again. After all, I, in general, have very little stuff to do, so it’d also be kicking myself in the foot.” _There._ If she couldn’t trust in my fondness of her, (and she’d be correct in doing so, as she well knew) she could at least believe in something self serving.

At my words, she practically bounced on her feet. So much for the grave dignity and elegance I’d thought she’d had.

I glanced over the space of the corridor way. “But was there somewhere you were planning on bringing me? Because I’d like to sit down: my feet aren’t used to me standing up the whole time.”

“It should be us who complain about not being used to such things,” the queen noted with a ghost of a smirk on her face, teasing me.

I rubbed my elbow, looking away sheepishly to admire the glazing on the wood lining of the walls. “I know it’s bad. I’m a pretty unfit person: sorry about that.”

The spoilt queen hummed. “Then, let us go and partake in that evening tea I promised you. We just need to walk across the corridor here and then turn left and keep to it.”

I sighed in theatrical relief. “Glad to!”

And with that, we made our way down the with roses embosomed carpet. This time round  we came across some people who weren’t just maids or foot soldiers. But though their clothing was of good make and was stitched with interesting and vivid patterns, the pair of woman still curtsied to the queen, clearly not her status equal.

This didn’t come as a surprise to me, but I did like seeing people other than the staff, as it made the castle feel more lived in, rather than just a grand and cold set piece, as these sorts of places often do.

What did however interest me, was their lack of a face.

Oh, excuse me. The distinction that grew attention to a face, as I’d often see if I drew close to one of those people I’d been mentally calling faceless.

As we stepped out of the held open door and into the spacious garden, where roses scented the air and a humongous square table had been set up, I asked the queen about it.

She chuckled in her sleeve, eyes crinkling slyly. “Oh that? It’s because our royal self have no need of them, those courtly woman and men. Our royal self only does business or, indeed, interact, with people who are essential. Those we just saw can slip of their pricy clothes and perm their hair and become anyone else that they want, aren’t essential.” The woman turned her head with the graceful arch of her neck, not one hair out of place. She was gazing at the square table, the smile drifting away.

She didn’t speak up about what was bothering her, so my face fell as I realized I must have struck a sore spot in her.

_To apologise or not?_

Her majesty the queen took that choice away from me, gesturing with a lace netted sleeve at the table for me to take a seat.

I was prompt to do so.

The seat was comfortable-there was a cushion on it to take away from the otherwise sharp edges of the highbacked chair, and it was perfectly level with the table, so I didn’t have to lean forwards to grab anything.

There was already a flower emblemised tea set in the middle of the tables with matching cups, just begging to be used. As the queen took her seat in a gush of her petticoats, I gently lifted one of the cups from its saucer and looked at its pristine white bottom, and imagined shoving every single one of these onto the rock path. That repressed urge you get whenever something frivolous and expensive is in your sights.

My fingers twitched, but I curled them over the stem to and successfully resisted the urge.

I looked the queen into her make upped face. “So, I told you a couple things about myself, but I only think it’d be quid pro quid if you said some things too?”

She traced the rim of her own carefully chosen cup, one with flowers on it that I remember were called chrysanthemums, and her face was turned neutral, the look of someone sunk down in thought.

“I have a brother...” she finally began, once the silence felt stretching. I wasn’t surprised she’d start speaking about her family considering I’d chosen mine for an anecdote, and instead listened patiently.

“He is a couple of years younger than me, and is pretty troublesome. I imagine his head underneath my scythe as much as I do drinking tea with him.”

Her face looked more open, younger, as she laughed at the undoubtingly bizarre look on my face.

“My relationship with him is definitely that amicable, familiar enemy sort of type you spoke about.” She grinned at me over her tea, looking fiendishly pleased. “I like that we have common ground like this.”

I got that. The space there was for bonding over troublesome brothers. Though, again, in my case, that was already a thing of the past.

There was one matter still that held me inquisitive. I leaned with my elbows forwards over the table. “Is your brother also a role holder? And furthermore, is it possible for someone who is a role holder to have faceless family?”

She cocked her head, cheek grazing her propped knuckles. “He is, and it is. But our question, if we may ask it, is why you’d ask?”

“Plain curiosity,” I deadpanned. It was the truth.

“How interesting. I’m learning a lot about you already.”

The queen, contrary to her words, didn’t seem much put out with it.

On the other hand, I felt paranoid. What exactly had she gleaned from me? What had I let slip the steel trap that was my put-on persona?

“Erm,” _think, think, think,_ “-Haha, I don’t really know what you mean?”

With a wince, I had to admit my tone had just come over as cornered.

The smile quirked across her attractive face as I mentally flailed.

“No need to worry. We were just commenting on your fresh perspective of Wonderland as a foreigner.”

A foreigner. Noun. A thing produced in and brought from a foreign country.

Never before had that tagline seemed legitimate.

Leaning backwards into my chair and slouching into the cushion, I sulked. Sure, I was a foreigner, but did I have to keep being called that?

Whenever it was said to me, it always created a sense of distance from the person who was calling me by it. And, indeed, from Wonderland as a whole. _You’re a foreigner, son. We’re permitting you to live only temporarily here, but eventually, you’ll have to return to where you really belong._

And, sure, I was planning on returning back home eventually (but I was already considering the matter with less urgency than before), but doesn’t it always give you that extra thrill when people consider you one of them? It creates a pleasant sense of belonging-it reassured you’d never be left behind to flounder alone.

...I’d felt that way maybe only twice in my lifespan.

 My mood darkening, I sunk deeper into the seat and glared moodily out into the distance, at the part where the field of grass was overtaken by gnarly tree trunks.

“There there.” Sensing my mood turn, the queen reached over to pat me on my forearm.

I flicked my eyes to her, and the slight furrow of her brows and steady eye contact that signified concern for me, and let it lift my mood. _See? She may call me a foreigner, but in this short period of time, she’s already showing more concern for me than my own parents! Take that, artificial sense of distance!_ Included in my mental ruminations, I shook my mental fist at the silly idea.

Because it may be alright for me to be cautious around her for the sake of the continued sanctity of my body (e.g., having one), but she should go ahead and grow fond of me as much as she wanted. _I_ personally thought I was very _likeable._

I flicked at the strands of glossy hair which fell in my face as the queen took both of our cups and poured the tea in. When I was given it back, I carried it in the palm of my hands and enjoyed the fragrant steam wafting up from it.

Our conversation didn’t pick up much from there; just us swapping pleasantries about what a beautiful garden she has and of course, designed it myself. The roses were especially lovely: all of them, despite the number of them, in full bloom.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It is taking me much too much self discipline not to just make *everyone* here a yandere, but I succeeded. ... Probably. Also, yes, I did cut partway through the chapter, but it was starting to get startlingly big again and I thought "enough already!" and thus, here it is.


End file.
